What lies Beneath
by whereSilencebegins
Summary: 300-500 word chpts.Draco has been trying to bring back the pride of his family's name to no avail when he is called in on a strange case that involves a werewolf, a hostage and strange magic...and just when he was getting used to the idea of a dead Potter
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: so, I'm trying something new. A story written in chapters of 500 words or less. Im trying to polish my writing skills so I decided to sharpen my claws on whole drabble thing, which I fail miserably at, but this little plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone so I decided to try it. Besides, everyone else seems to be doing it so I wanna try, haha. Warnings for later adult content of the yaoi persuasion. Unbeta'd

* * *

**

What Lies Beneath

It wasn't his typical case, of that he was aware right away.

Usually, they kept him to the simple cases, such as magical damage control or cleaning up after escaped Blast-ended Skewerts (that one had been disastrous to say the least). Never anything that would require his own powerful array of skills, no matter what he did to prove himself. He knew why they did it. Despite everything, the shining testimony at his trial by noted members of the Order, including Granger and a reluctant Weasel and his excellent record in Auror training, it was still difficult for people to accept or trust an ex-Death Eater. No matter what his reasons were for taking the Mark or what he did to sabotage it during the war.

He had hoped, once he proved he _could_ be something more that a cowardly follower of some twisted Dark Lord, they would see his worth and give him more important cases. Alas, such was not to be so but even then, he refused to give up.

Malfoy had been a proud name once. He wanted to make it so again.

Yet when the call came in, he wondered. It was a hostage case, at least that much he had been told but it had emptied out almost the entire Auror department and left the atmosphere feeling heavy and hopeless as he strode to the Apparation room. Who could possibly be so important that everything was being dropped and discarded for this? Feeling, once again, completely removed from the rest of the world, he appeared with a crack at the given coordinates and looked around.

They were in a field surrounded by thick trees that reminded him of a setting in Ireland and that was swarmed with people in red robes. The magic was so thick in the air that he could almost taste it and he noticed there were other people present as well, including press. Trying to be discreet, he sidled up to a few lower ranking Aurors and cast a subtle spell that would allow him to hear their conversation.

In seconds he realized why everyone was making such a big fuss and the spell fizzled out in his shock.

The hostage was none other than Harry Potter.

**TBC**

**yeah, i know, you all saw that one coming. But I promise it gets more original as it goes. Please, I would love to know what you all think!!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: ugh, so sick...ugh. Not to many hits on this one but thats okay! I shall persevere! *dodges rotten tomato* Well, I tried...hehe  


* * *

**

"…think they made some kind of mistake?"

"…reckon it's another poser…"

"…thought he had died…"

"You-Know-Who was supposed to have killed him!"

"Everyone's saying it's Greyback…"

It was like a bad dream come to life, the darkness and thick, sludgy magic filling his head until he thought he would drown in it. Of course there had to be some kind of mistake; Potter was dead. At least, that's what the reports said. He himself hadn't seen it happen, though he had been there that night. He had been too busy opening a hole in the Death Eater' defenses to let the Order break through while Potter had been off doing his hero thing, facing off with the Dark Lord in another part of the forest. As a matter of fact, as far as he knew, the Golden Boy had been completely alone when he died.

After, once the confusion of a sad victory had died down, they had not been able to find his body and eventually the search had been given up on. He could still remember the headlines that day, two and a half years after the war had ended, mournfully announcing the official death of one Harry James Potter. Once he might have laughed but all he had felt was a pathetic kind of numbness. Despite everything, he had not wanted to see such a shining figure of hope fall because that would mean he was left without that light too.

And yet here he was, that name whispered by every mouth in reverent, excited tones as a new, stranger kind of hope was rekindled.

He stalked through the rambling mass that seemed like it was at a complete loss, no orders forthcoming, his wide grey eyes searching the darkness of the trees. No one else seemed to have noticed but there was a sharper, less tamed undercurrent to the encompassing blanket of magic that surrounded them, a sure sign of wild magic. The very thought had the little hairs on his arms standing on end, making him flare his nose as if he could smell it. But while he could sense it, the scope of its presence did not make itself known. Even so, he rubbed his palms over his arms as if trying to warm himself.

Just as he was about to turn around and find Kingsley, the Head Auror, to see what was going on, his eyes caught upon something at the edge of the clearing.

It was a person, a man, so familiar and unexpected Draco's heart clenched. Potter looked the same as he had when he was seventeen and his green eyes blazed across the distance that stood between them.

A voice whispered to him in the heavy air and he almost sobbed with the longing that lay there.

"…Please…help me…"

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: oops! well, this one is longer than 500 words but oh well! Im not so good at this whole drabble thing, haha! Reviews are much appreciated and will be rewarded with cookies!!!!

* * *

**

"I need to speak to Kingsley!" he cried for what must have been the fortieth time, struggling against the hold one of the other Auror's had around his elbow, "Just let me through!" distrusting eyes stared down at him as he struggled, anger nearly blinding him. After nearly four years of trying to show them he was neither an enemy nor the Dark Mark upon his arm, they still hated him for something he'd had no control over.

"As we have been trying to tell you, Kingsley is busy and has no time to be listening to cranked up—" Draco positively snarled, catching the flickering of movement along the trees that no one else seemed to have noticed yet.

"And _I'm_ telling you that I have information he should know about, you fucking wanker, and if you don't let me through then you're a stupid, fucking, bigoted idiot!" he cried, getting too tired of arguing to care what kind of insults were coming out of his mouth and finally yanked his arm free of the bruising grip. He wouldn't be put off by facing three giants who looked at of they had only gained their Auror status through brawn alone. Prejudiced hate glared back at him while blocking the blonde's path to the man he desperately needed to talk to. This appearance of Potter at the edge of the clearing had to mean something significant and he couldn't imagine why no one else had seen him yet. Yet before any of them could retort to his scathing assessment, a deep voice broke through the bustle and the attention their confrontation was beginning to draw.

"What's going on here?" it was Kingsley himself, pushing through the onlookers, dark eyes intense and punishing. Draco felt a sense of sweeping sense of relief. It had been mainly due to the Head Auror's recommendation that the blond had been accepted into the program and the older man had been the only one not inclined to slide into the nearly universal feeling of hate towards anyone who might even have been suspected of having contact with Voldemort.

"Sir!" he started, ignoring the way the others bristled, "There's something more about this case than just a hostage situation," there was no time for eloquent and up leading conversation. The slim figure of the dark haired teen was still watching him silently from beneath the shady cover the trees. The older man narrowed his eyes at the blond, clearly intrigued.

"What are you on about, Malfoy?" he demanded and Draco would have been intimidated but he knew the bigger man would hear him out.

"Well, from what I understand, Greyback claims to have Harry Potter in custody, right?" there were soft, uneasy murmurs from the now completely silent cluster of people around them and a tight nod from the man he was addressing, "But how can that be? He's standing right there," and he turned his head, pointing right to where the slender form was watching, a hand pressed against rough, thick bark. People turned their heads to look and then he was fixed with wild, accusing eyes. He faltered, looking again. Nope, still there.

"What are you talking about, Mr. Malfoy? This better not be some kind of joke," the warning was little more than a growl that made his hair stand on end and the murmurs picked up in volume, hissing angrily about how an ex-Death Eater dared to make a farce out of something like this.

"Joke? No, of course not! I won't… it's…it's Harry…he's right there…" he breathed, looking into those deep, pleading eyes that reached him from even that glaring distance, still calling him, begging for help. He could hear the pain in the familiar voice, the fear and he couldn't understand why he felt so compelled to be the one that helped him. When he managed to break his gaze away and glance at Kingsley again, the man was assessing him carefully, eyes flickering back and forth between Draco's grey ones.

"Malfoy, there's nothing there," but when he looked, there he was, still waiting, still pleading.

It seemed Draco was the only one who could see him.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

The ground was soft under his feet as he walked as calmly as he could towards the forbidding line of trees. Somehow his wand remained steady in the cage of his fingers, though he was sure that in his unease, it should be shaking something awful. Actually, if he was willing to be completely honest with himself, he was downright terrified. Greyback had always scared the hell out of him when he had to interact with the crazy werewolf a few times in the past and while there didn't seem to be any proof of his presence now, one could never be too careful. But he couldn't let that show to the others who were all silent and watching from the slight rise of the clearing, their accusing eyes cold and looking for excuses to condemn him even more. He wouldn't show weakness in front of them.

It was lucky, or unlucky depending on how this turned out, that Kingsley was even willing to listen to him. Maybe it was because in all of the time he had worked as an Auror, he had never had the occasion to lie or make things up for his own benefit. That was something his old self used to do but he had not been that person in a long time. Whatever the reason, after he had explained everything, from the strange feeling of the wild magic to Potter's voice that kept asking for help, the older man had finally decided that something should be done, and allowed Draco to go down and see what he could find out. He had wanted to send in a team with the blond but Draco trusted himself alone more than he did with a bunch of battle trained wizards that heated him. Before Kingsley could start barking orders, he shook his head, eyes still on the image of the boy flickering in the trees. There was something in that emerald eyes that pulled at him, though he couldn't say exactly what it meant.

"No, I think I have to go alone, for this to work," he had said, much to the annoyance of everyone else but the Head Auror just threw a glare around and the unease settled. If anything were to go wrong or if he was just going to find Potter's dead body, they were going to blame it all on him.

"What's going to work?" the older man had demanded but Draco had no answers.

Now he walked the last few feet, drawing closer to the dark haired wizard, gaze drawn to the perfection of his face. It had been years since he had last seen the other boy but surely he had never been this beautiful? Strait nose, full lips and sloping dark eyebrows over bright green eyes. And somehow he still looked like he did then, young, strong, confident. The only difference was the lack of a scar on his forehead under the unruly strands of the inky curls.

"Potter?" he breathed, reaching out with his free hand to touch the boy's shoulder. A shock went through him, like the form he was looking at was made completely from magic and he wondered if this had something to do with the strange feel to the air. There was no recognition in the intense gaze, nothing solid that said he knew who Draco was but that blazing green was no less intense for it.

"Have you come to help me?" the voice asked though Potter's lips never moved and the blond swallowed hard, beginning to truly shake but he would never give anyone the excuse to call him a coward again so he nodded. When he did, the full lips curled up into a stunning smile that left him quite breathless and then the dark haired boy reached out, curling his hand around Draco's, "Thank you,"

All he could see was green as the clearing and the forest around them disappeared.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: thanks to those of you who have reviewed! I know its a strange format but I actually really like the way this is turning out. Would love to know what everyone thinks! Constructive criticism is appreciated, as this is an exercise to help hone my writing skills. Thanks!

* * *

**

"Do you know my name?" the green eyes were dark now, holding pain and something else that he couldn't identify but it was the question that nearly broke him.

Somehow, when Potter had taken his hand, they had appeared in another part of the forest, though the only reason he knew it was still the same one was because the magic was still there, pressing in on him, trying to steal his air. Trees surrounded them, huge and silent, like possessive guardians that protected something so precious their very presence threatened to crush him. Everywhere he looked was green, the underbrush, the high canopy of leaves and even the trunks of the trees; all of it a deep, rich emerald green. Sound here seemed stifled, though that could have just been because it was so quiet, he fancied he could almost hear the startled cries from shocked and angry Aurors. But no, somehow he instinctively knew they were a very long way from that clearing. And it was just him and Potter, standing amid all that green. When he looked into those intense, searching eyes, he figured the specter of the other boy—man—fit right in here.

"Yes," he breathed, closing his eyes against the feeling the probing words had instilled in his heart, "yes, your name is Harry James Potter," when he spoke it, it was heavy on his tongue and something fizzled around him, like the magic was reacting to the name. When he opened his eyes, the dark haired man seemed to have lost some of his substance, so the blond could almost make out the forest behind him. The unruly head tipped to the side, as if he was considering it and it was such an innocent gesture Draco almost smiled.

"Harry," and the magic fizzed again, sparks pricking at his pale skin. But if the other boy felt it, he gave no indication. Instead he looked right at Draco and reached out again, running his fingers down the blonde's straight nose, "and I know you. But I can't remember your name either," it was like the revelation surprised him, that he couldn't remember Draco but he felt nothing about being unable to recall his own name. Swallowing around a suddenly dry throat, it took him two tries to find his voice, all the while wondering why he wasn't more disturbed about the green eyed wizard touching him. Even that seemed insubstantial.

"Draco," and because he didn't want to be connected to the negative connotations that his last name was sure to stir up, he left it off. Potter studied his face for a long moment, standing eerily still.

"We have very intense feelings for one another but I can't be sure if it is love or hate," the scrutiny deepened and that beautiful smile was back, effectively stealing his breath and his reason, "I am inclined to think it is not hate. I don't think I could hate one as beautiful as you," Draco almost corrected him, almost told him that they hated each other quite passionately but that was a lifetime ago and he had never really wanted to hate Potter in the first place. Plus, the fact that Harry Potter had just called him beautiful nearly had his mind stalling. Flushing, he instead gathered his courage and managed not to address the dark haired man's mistake. Maybe after this it could be the truth.

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked, voice rough and he felt vulnerable because he could sense the wild magic listening to them, shivering a little as if it was waiting for him to ask that question. Potter's smile faded and his eyes became distant, sad.

"Because I am trapped, Draco," and the blond forgot to savor the way his given name sounded in that voice because he had followed the place where Potter was pointing to, horror turning to ice in his veins.

For there was Harry, or Harry's body, lying completely still on a golden platform looking as if he had just fought a very hard battle and had simply fallen asleep.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Oops, haha, this one is MUCH longer than it should be but oh well. It seems my grasp on this whole drabble thing is tenuous at best but I'm trying! Thanks again for the reviews!

* * *

**

He stood for a long minute staring at the still face of the young man spread out on the golden marble, wondering what he could possibly do to wake him up. Clearly Potter was under some kind of curse but for all his Auror training, the blond had never really been much of a curse breaker. The thought was shadowed by the fact that he had no idea what or how the other wizard could have come to be in such a state. Clearly he had been like this since the ending of the war, as no one had seen him since that time but he couldn't tell who had done it or what had been done.

The strong features were very still, the only sign that the dark haired man was indeed not asleep but his chest rose and feel evenly, a strong pulse standing out in the line of his neck. Beautiful and tragic, the picture of a perfect, fallen hero. Draco turned to the apparition that stood behind him, noting how he was slowly fading, as if he had used up all his energy to bring the blond Auror here.

"What happened?" he asked, knowing that he probably wouldn't get much of an answer since Potter couldn't even remember his own name. The dark head tilted again in thought and the only thing that seemed solid on him was the impressive green of his eyes.

"I was…trapped here. The magic that holds me here is dying and when it does, so will I. You must find a way to set me free…I'm running out of time…" and with that, he was gone in a swirl of sparks and whispered breath, leaving the blond alone in the dark forest with no one but a cursed Harry Potter. He stared for long moments at the place where the manifestation of the other wizard's consciousness had been standing, feeling helpless as the words ran around and around in his head…_find a way to set me free...running out of time_. What did he expect Draco to be able to do, if he could not tell him what really happened? How could he free him if he did not know how he had been trapped in the first place?

Slowly, he turned back to Harry, studying the still features until he was sure he would never be able to forget them, even should he want to. It should have surprised him, this desire that welled inside him that wanted nothing more than to see those long, coal colored lashes fluttering open, revealing a green that was so beautiful, it was sure to break his heart.

"How do I get myself into messes like this?" he murmured before reached out, wondering idly if this would be like the Muggle story of the princess in the tower who needed to be kissed by her true love to be awakened. But that was silly because surely Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were never destined to be lovers. Yet even as his mind thought to regret that, his fingertips touched the smooth shoulder and he was spiraling down, his surroundings disappearing in a rush. Wind buffeted at him from all sides and he thought to scream only the sound was torn from his lips before it could even form.

And then he was back in the world again. Or at least he thought so at first. But here everything was grey around the edges, as if the light and color had been bleached away and he was no longer in the same forest.

Next to him was Harry, awake and well, despite the blood that dripped from a wound on head, completely unaware of the blonde's presence, looking fierce and brave like the lion he was. And in front of them stood Voldemort.

Fear nearly crippled his limbs before he realized that neither of them had noticed Draco's appearance. There was a brief, fierce battle, the lights from the spells the only color in this dark world before two of them connected, held, exploded, making his eyes hurt. When he was able to clear his vision enough to look around, he paled at what he saw.

It was like it had never happened. Harry stood in the same spot he had been before, same blood dripping into his eyes. And in a moment, the same battle commenced, the same flurry of shouted spells, the same blinding light.

Before it started again.

And again.

With a gasp, Draco tore himself free, flinging himself away from the gold platform as soon as the green forest came back into view, sending himself sprawling into the underbrush as sweat and tears ran down his face. Grey eyes stared up at the still form, grief spilling from his heart that beat frantically in his chest. The Dark Lord might have been destroyed but Harry had been made to live that single moment over and over again for the past four and a half years until the magic wore out and took him with it. He would die before he even got to see that his sacrifice had not been in vain.

Draco buried his head in his hands and sobbed in despair. He had no idea how to set him free.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I don't know why but I _really_ like this story. Its simpler than how I usually write because of the format but this is one plot bunny I can really get behind. Feedback very much appreciated!**

* * *

Every spell he could think of from _Finite Incantatum _to a disrupting Dark spell his father had taught him when times were much more uncertain that he cast did absolutely nothing. As he flung them at the air over Harry's sleeping face or at the golden platform upon which the dark haired man slept, his magic would catch upon some invisible barrier and just fizzle into non existence. His hand that griped his wand had begun to blister from all the magic that he had channeled through it and helpless panic was beginning to make him sloppy, knowing that failure would mean certain doom.

Well, it would for Harry, if he could not figure out that which kept him locked in his past.

Draco sat back on his heels and took several deep breaths, sweat dripping down the ridge of his nose. The forest had darkened in the time he had spent trying to figure out how to break the curse, forcing him to light several small, bobbing fairy lights in the boughs of the trees he knelt under, casting a cold, eerie light in the immediate vicinity. Unfriendly shadows lingered on the under sides of the shuddering leaves and lurked behind the thick tree trunks, making him feel as if someone was watching him. He had been at this for _hours_ and had made completely no progress what so ever. The blond let out a harsh breath and rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

It wouldn't do to panic now; he already knew that much. But he thought of the way Harry's consciousness had manifested itself, begging for his help and he nearly drowned in uncertainty.

What was strange, he pondered as he took a moment to catch his breath, was how an event such as this could change his prospective of the Boy Wonder so drastically in such a short time. It had been many long years since he had actively hated the other man, the change having taken place sometime during their sixth year but he still wasn't sure what it was that had brought about such a change. Now, though, he wanted nothing more than to break this strange spell and see exactly what shade of green those Harry's eyes were.

And when had he started thinking of him as Harry? Only that morning he had been referring to him by his last name and the other wizard hadn't actually _done_ anything to change him mind. But then he realized that he actually _had. _The man had given up everything, four years of his life that he would never get back, just to see everyone else safe. He had given all that he had to protect the world from an evil that, if left unchecked, would have destroyed everything. A single human seventeen year old boy with hair that refused to lay flat and a smile that was a pure as starlight and he now lay under such a spell that would have him reliving that very moment over and over until the magic ran out and drained away his life. Draco might be many things but he had never been blind. He understood the monumental impossibility of what Harry had done. Frustrated to the point of tears, he dug his fingers into the soft soil on either side of his hips and tipped back his head to stare into the darkness of the trees.

"Tell me how to help you!" he cried, raging against the fist that had closed around his chest, "Don't leave me here without telling me how to break this!" hot tears dripped into his hair and he dropped his chin to his chest, feeling drained. He had tried everything, everything that he could think of. There were a couple potions he could have tried but he was afraid of their affect on the sleeping wizard and frankly didn't think they would work any better than any of the other spells he had used.

Finally he scrubbed his face with dirty hands, smudging soil onto his skin, telling himself to stop wallowing in self pity as it would get nothing done. He allowed himself a moment of weakness and that was all he could afford. Carefully, he lifted his suddenly pounding head to look at the still face resting on the platform, feeling his resolve coiling around him like a protective embrace. It burned the color of emeralds.

If he couldn't get through the protections around Harry with his own magic, he had to find another way in. He had been looking for a weakness in the barrier but they had held against even the most powerful of his spells. It was annoying and frustrating because he knew he wasn't weak. But, perhaps, this needed a different kind of approach.

Draco gasped, gray eyes lighting up with a hope he had thought abandoned him awhile ago. There was _one_ way in and it required no magic at all. Quickly, he stumbled to his feet, trying not to think about what he was about to do and crunched through the underbrush so that he was standing over Harry's still form.

"I'm coming," he whispered and reached out to curl his hand around a set of slim fingers, letting himself be drawn in…

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: weee! This story is so much fun!

* * *

**

The rain of spells flickered in the shadowed setting, flickering like a moving picture and he realized that was what this place reminded him of. A snap shot taken in time, doomed to play one particular scene over and over again without coming to any kind of conclusion or given the opportunity to be resolved. Now that he was here, he had no idea what to do and every time those two spells met, one a killing curse and the other one that he didn't recognize, he would flinch away, feeling as if the raw power would flay the very skin from his bones.

An instinctive fear trembled in his veins upon seeing Voldemort again, like the instinct to run was screaming at him from the back of his mind. He could see the way those cold, slitted eyes crackled faintly with the very same power that had seduced his father and nearly killed his entire family and he cowered at the edge of the clearing, teeth rattling in his skull. Of course he knew that it wasn't real and that the man was dead, never to threaten him or anyone else again but the need to flee was still strong enough that it made his knees tremble. Draco could only look at the robed figure that was more demon than man for a moment before he had to turn his eyes away, afraid to relive the horrors that had been forced upon him four years ago.

Which left him with only Harry to look at.

Harry, who stood so straight and calm before the man that had been trying to kill him his entire life, had stolen away his family and his peace of mind and finally, his innocence. He could see it all in the strong lines of the noble face, in the way the wide gaze blazed with determination and anger, in the way Harry lifted his wand and refused to back down. If only Draco could have been half that strong.

But now. Now it was Harry that needed _his_ help and even if he didn't need to face off against a Dark Lord, perhaps this way he could pay for some of his own sins. As he watched, he realized that this might gain him forgiveness from the man he had once used to hate but now just wanted to save.

He didn't notice it at first, watching from the sidelines as the spell looped around itself a couple times, looking for anything that might give him a nudge in the right direction. Then he realized that Harry wasn't as washed out as everything else seemed to be. While the background and even Voldemort himself were nothing more than figures made of colorless shadows, the dark haired wizard had a faint sheen of life edging around his skin and his clothes. His skin was a dusky pale cream and his hair held a hint of red, picked up and enhanced by the flickers of crimson in his shirt. The blond nearly laughed out loud. Harry wasn't being made to _watch_ what happened; he was rather caught up in the middle of the whole thing.

Now all Draco had to do was break him free.

When another burst of that blinding light washed over him, he had his answer.

He waited until the vision started again and gathered as much of his magic into his core as he could, feeling it vibrating under his skin like a thousand anxious butterflies that would turn to exploding fire as soon as he set them loose. Spells once again fluttered through the air but this time, instead of standing away from them so as not to be caught up, he dashed onto the field, gathering up as much courage as he could, cocooning the power curling lazily through his chest so as not to lose control of it. That moment when the twin wands raised at the same time had been engrained into his brain and he lifted his own wand, not even bothering with a spell. At the precise moment those two beams of light met, he pushed all of his magic through his wand, aiming it at the meeting point.

And watched as the world broke around him.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

Long, pale eyelashes fluttered open to find a chink of sunlight falling upon his face. Eyes the color of rain blinked a few times as Draco tried to work through the haze that had settled over him mind, trying to figure out just why it was he was waking up outside.

When he remembered, he sat up with a sharp gasp only to grasp his head as pain rocketed through his skull. It took a few deep breaths for the world to stop spinning so violently around him and when he thought he might be able to move without wanting to rip his own head off just to escape the ache, he carefully opened his eyes again.

The forest hadn't seemed to change at all in the time he had been out but for some strange reason, he felt as if it _had. _Birds chirped softly in the canopy above his head and a warm breeze filtered through the thick, mossy trunks to gently breathe life to his skin he didn't even realize had been icy cold. It looked as though he had been there the entire night and it was strange that none of the other Aurors had found him yet. Surely by now they would have started the search for him, even if he wasn't well liked among their ranks. Not one of them would leave a comrade to die; it was one of the first things they had been taught in training.

That was when he realized what was different.

There was no magic. The stifling presence that had kept him company all day yesterday, from the moment he had stepped foot into that crowded clearing to the time he passed out had disappeared, leaving behind just an ordinary forest that sang with life and left him feeling more free than he had in a long time. Free and sore. Draco winced as he pulled his legs underneath him while he looked around, his entire body stiff and achy. Not to mention he could barely feel his magic. It was something every wizard took for granted, being able to sense their own magic but he had never been drained to the point where he noticed its absence. The thought of being unable to cast even the smallest of spells scared the shit out of him.

And then he remembered _why_ he felt like this and whipped around, not caring about the sudden sting of pain.

The platform was still there but it no longer glowed faintly with magic and had turned into crumbling stone that looked as if a single stunner would turn it into a pile of dust. Harry still lay there, in the exact same position he had been in before and for a moment Draco wondered if he had been too late. Fear gnawing at his gut, he forced himself into motion, crawling through the strangely flattened underbrush as he couldn't make his legs hold the entirety of his weight and nearly hauled himself up so that he was looking down into that still face once again.

"Harry?" he breathed, wincing as his voice caught painfully in his raw throat. The strong features were so still and he couldn't see any pulse in the lines of the dark haired man's neck. Draco lifted one hand and drew his fingers over a cold cheek, nearly flinching away when he found how lifeless it was. A sob caught in his throat and he dropped his tired head onto the still chest, failure and grief welling up in his heart until he was choking on it. How could he have failed? Could it had been that Harry's life was tied to that curse and that in disrupting it, he had broken the man too? The very idea didn't bear thinking on and he drowned in his misery. The one thing he had been asked to do, to save the life of the man who had saved his own more than once and he couldn't even do that. Later, he would deny doing such an un-Malfoy like thing but now, he let the tears spill over as he clung to the still body that had once been Harry Potter, hating himself.

If he had not been so lost in his grief, he would have felt the slight stirring of breath in the chest he was crying on and heard the faint but steady heartbeat under his forehead. But he didn't realize Harry was not, in fact, dead until a strong, cool hand curled into his disheveled hair and gently smoothed through the fine strands. It took exactly four seconds for him to feel it and he whipped his head up, looking into the other man's face as those long fingers continued to card through his hair.

Harry's eyes were greener than even the most pure of emeralds and outshone the heart of Spring, the color deep and rich. He found himself lost in the color, breath stuck somewhere in his throat and heedless of the tears clinging to his eyelashes.

Harry was alive.

He had not failed after all. And as he gazed down at the green-eyed wizard in wonder, he found no hatred or resentment in that deep gaze. There was just acceptance, affection and relief, so bright he forgot everything but Harry's beautiful smile. A smile that was all for Draco.

"Hello, Draco," and just like that, his world was complete.

**TBC**

**...you don't honestly think its that easy, do you? *cackles evilly*  
**


	10. Chapter 10

It was almost as if he had forgotten what it was like to smile and now that he was, his face was ready to crumble under the strain. But he smiled anyway. And it wasn't just a small, exhausted smile that would portray his relief but one that stretched wide over his features, filled with emotions he didn't even know he could feel anymore. Something inside of him fell away, like a dark veil had been hiding all kinds of thoughts he was sure couldn't be his own and the blinding relief flooded him until all of his already weakened muscles turned to jelly. He let himself slide to the ground, legs crumpling underneath him before burying his face in his shaking hands.

And he laughed.

It wasn't a happy laugh, not entirely, but it was filled with all of those unfamiliar emotions that were purged from him by the maniacal sound spilling from his lips. He didn't even recognize it as his own, the laugh wild and so _free_. Because he had done this; because he had not failed like he had everything else in his life. He stayed like that until his laughter died down, hiding his face even as sanity slowly insinuated itself back into his brain.

"Bloody hell," he breathed into his palms, sweaty and gritty with dirt, unable to lift his head when he heard the rustle of clothing that announced Harry was probably sitting up and no doubt laughing at him at his unseemly display. Merlin knows if it were him, he'd be laughing. But Harry didn't laugh. He reached down and touched the back of the blonde's hand so that when Draco finally did look up, he found himself drowning in shining pools of endless green.

"You saved my life," the smile was gone but that didn't matter. The dark haired man was still the most beautiful person he had ever seen, "I was starting to think that I would die like that, having to kill him over and over again until there was nothing left of me to fight with. You're the first person who cared enough to break the cycle," the blond blinked at that, trying to sort out his thoughts and then picked up on what the other man _hadn't_ said.

"There was someone else?" he asked, taking in the way the dark hair had grown, falling around the broad shoulders in a tumbling fall of ebony curls and wondering briefly what it would be like to sink his fingers in it. Then the green eyes shuttered, disappearing briefly behind long, black lashes, uncertainty clear in the line that appeared between the dark brows.

"Someone…yes. I can't…I can't remember it clearly but he came and promised that I would be trapped forever for thinking I could kill…" a slender hand passed in front of his face and Draco barely had enough warning before the dark haired man was tumbling from the crumbling platform, grunting as his weakened body tried to support the extra weight. Harry was far from heavy, making him realize just how skinny the man had become while under the spell but the dead weight still pressed down on him. For a moment he was afraid the other wizard had fainted but then a long, slender arm wrapped around his waist and a smile flickered across the strong features, "Maybe now that you have saved me, I can remember again," and there was such simple joy in the deep voice, Draco's heart ached.

"So you still can't remember anything? Nothing about this other person or…" but he stopped before he said _or me_ because that would have sounded selfish and needy and he wasn't that person anymore. The wide emerald gaze poured over him like a liquid kiss, making him forget how to breathe.

"No I…there's…something there but…it's mostly just feelings and impressions. He meant to harm me, though. That much I can recall," they were silent for a moment, Draco supporting Harry's weight in his arms as the Savor of the Wizarding World lay sprawled in his lap before the man turned his head and pressed his nose into the blonde's chest, his hold on the Auror's waist tightening, "But you…you're so familiar and I can't remember why. I want to remember why this feels so right," Draco barely heard the last few words over the pounding of his heart and he opened his mouth to deny it, to say that Harry would hate him as surely as he had four years ago as soon as all his memories came back but something stopped him. It _did_ feel right. Holding the man like this, with his unruly curls falling over Draco's shoulder and arm and his hot breath branding him right through his clothes; it felt perfect and it scared the shit out of him.

Yet before he could come up with anything to say, a low, rough chuckle startled him as it came from around one of the trees and he lifted his wand, nerves suddenly screaming at him even though he knew he couldn't even cast a simple _Luminos_.

"Well, well, look at what I have caught," the voice was deep and painfully familiar, making everything in him freeze in terror, "How ironic that it would be a Malfoy that broke the curse,"

And Draco clutched Harry to him as Fenrir Greyback stepped into view.

**TBC**

**...stupid werewolf, ruining a perfectly good scene. Jeeze.  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Yay! People like it!! Thanks for the reviews, I was beginning to think this was a rather epic fail. hehe. Anyway, hope its interesting and not too predictable . .Its getting there and I must admit, I really like it. It's a lot of fun to write! Thanks again!

* * *

**

"I must admit, this is somewhat unexpected," the older man prowled around where they sat, reminding Draco of the wolf that he was. Out of all the Death and the other unfortunate creatures that followed Voldemort, Greyback had always scared him the most. Not because of what he was; after all, there were some werewolves that were kinder than many humans he had met. It was because the man was unpredictable. Even the Dark Lord had trouble keeping him obedient and now he was just a loose cannon, free to maim and kill as he pleased. Fear trembled in his gut as he kept his eyes glued on the lean figure, feeling Harry shifting to sit up in his lap, "To think, Lucius's son, rescuing the Dark Lord's mortal enemy," the laugh this time was wilder, thick and he couldn't help the chill that crawled up his spine, "How the mighty have fallen, indeed!" he cried, throwing his hands out, yellow eyes glinting in the greenish light, "If only your father could see you now, boy! What a shame; I always thought you had potential,"

"Do not, for one moment, assume you know anything about me or my father," he snarled finally, rage eating away at the helpless fear, making his eyes blaze like two silver moons. Everyone always saw him and his family as the consummate evil minions and he was tired of it. Tired of the assumptions and the looks and the pain of being held back just because of something he couldn't control, "We are not who everyone thinks we are and you have no place speaking about my family," he barely even recognized his own voice and it even gave the great, silver haired werewolf pause.

"Ha! Clearly I must have been mistaken, seeing as it was you who came to Potter's aide. Funny thing, that," and he chuckled just as there was a gentle touch against the small of Draco's back, making him glance at the green eyed man sitting sideways over his legs. That wide gaze was warm and reassuring, burning away all of the shaky dread and making him believe that everything might actually be alright after all. Greyback had paused upon seeing their interaction, a sneer so ugly it twisted his features curling on his thin lips until he was barely recognizable, "Well, would you look at this. Harry Potter getting cozy with the boy Malfoy. How times have changed. More's the pity. Doesn't matter, though, as my plans have no need for either one of you," and he stopped in front of the two younger men, stance menacing and confident. Draco gulped, grasping for a moment or two to stall.

"Wait! Why wouldn't you just kill Harry when he was under the spell?" he asked, trying to ignore the way the dark haired man had shifted, allowing for movement of both his hands. He could feel it now, the power that Harry was gathering within him, crackling along his skin and dancing between them. It hummed with life, temporarily filling the void left behind from his own depleted magic source. But the werewolf seemed to notice nothing amiss because he was cackling that grinding, painful laugh, unaware of the storm that was building in front of him.

"Stupid child! Haven't you figured it out by now? That was Voldemort's spell! A fallback should he ever be defeated! I just made it so that no one could reach through it and free Potter. Apparently I was mistaken," then he shrugged and leveled his wand at them, suddenly too calm for comfort, "Doesn't matter now, though. I'll just kill you this way instead. And I'll start with you, the disappointment of a Malfoy that you are," and he pointed his wand at the place right between Draco's eyes.

It was strange, that his only thought as he stared down the length of Greyback's wand was that he wouldn't have the opportunity to get to know this Harry, to be given time to understand exactly why he felt so right wrapped in his arms, so safe. Magic fizzled between them and he closed his eyes, waiting to see if he would die before the dark haired man could gather enough magic.

Just as Greyback moved his wand in a sharp, cutting motion, a warm, blinding light filled the forest, pulsing like a living thing, stealing his breath and he had to close his eyes against the tears because it was the most wonderful thing he had ever felt.

He understood now; Harry wasn't doing this to save himself. He was doing it to save Draco. Nothing of their past lingered between them anymore, fading away as if it had never been, as if they really had loved each other _before _rather than hated. So he allowed himself to sink gratefully into the throbbing power, knowing that if he were to die, it would be when he was happier than he could ever remember being.

And in that moment, he barely even heard the dying scream because he knew that he had found his home.

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: OMFG!! Seriously, I must have shoveled like two feet of really heavy snow, you know the kind that looks nice and fluffy but is melting underneath so its wet and weighed down. Stupid winter, thinking its so cool, crapping on us like this. *sigh* I must admit, it does look rather pretty, clinging to every last branch and telephone wire. I think I would like it a whole lot better if I wasn't hauling it around for nearly three hours...

* * *

**

There had been no uttered spell or anything definite to say that Harry had done anything at all. Nothing except the lingering tingles of power that buzzed and danced like excited fairies over his skin, making his fingertips feel numb and the still body of what had once been Fenrir Greyback lying a few feet away.

"How did you…?" he had found himself hiding his face in the crook of the other man's neck by the time the biggest surges of magic had dissipated, the dark curls brushing over his skin and filling his senses with the scent of crushed leaves and rich earth. It appeared Harry had protected him from whatever it was he had done by simply wrapping his arms around the blonde's shoulders and using him slender body as a shield. Which didn't make any sense at all, seeing as the magic had come from _inside_ the dark haired wizard, flowing through the clearing like a cleaning purge, leaving everything fresh and new. Green eyes as deep as oceans met his own when he finally looked up, full of mysteries and emotion.

"I just…I didn't want you to get hurt," suddenly Harry looked exhausted and it reminded Draco that the man had been caught in the webs of a curse for four years, in which time he had faced his own death over and over countless times. It was his turn to hold Harry who leaned against him gratefully and the blond willingly forgot that he was just as tired, "I don't think I could bear it if you got hurt," the words cut him so deeply he was sure he was bleeding inside and he finally couldn't keep the words inside.

"Har—Potter. You couldn't even remember my name. How do you know this…this…_whatever_ this is didn't occur because I am the person who pulled you out of that place?" he wanted to say more but his throat closed and he couldn't say that they used to hate each other, couldn't say that the rest of the world would crucify them if this should become real, couldn't say that he _wanted_ this more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire life and it was ripping him apart because he knew it could never be his.

"It could be that," the other man started, dark lashes like smudges of charcoal against his cheeks but before the words could even begin to sting, vibrant green was revealed along with a weak smile that made something in his chest twist painfully, "but I don't think that's the case," and because he wished it to be true, Draco didn't argue. Instead he closed his silver eyes and sighed.

"Perhaps it's time to get you home. The entire world is going to positively combust when they find out you're alive," the last statement was bitter but it was the word home that Harry seemed to pick up on first.

"I have a home? Really? I can't seem to recall that either," the blond winced, telling himself that he wouldn't cry. He had no idea where Harry lived or even if he had someplace to go. Surely as soon as Granger and Weasley heard about this, they would rush in and snatch the dark haired man away so that he would never see him again. And then he realized something amazing. Something that he never thought he would ever be capable of in a million years. He knew that, as long as Harry was okay and happy and if he never saw the man again, it would be worth every broken shard of his heart. And wasn't that strange too, because he barely knew this person, this man but he knew it would hurt to not be given the opportunity to learn everything about him.

"I don't know…" he breathed, finally plucking up enough courage to open his eyes and lose himself in a green so bright, he could stare at it forever and still never learn every facet of its luminescence, "But there are people who love you and miss you. Your home is there, with them," he missed the disappointment that flashed across the dark haired man's face then because he couldn't bear to watch anymore.

"Please tell me that includes you as well," but he couldn't answer because he didn't know.

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: eh, heh, well, it's really, really angsty. I blame it all on the insane snow XP

* * *

**

Draco had to carry Harry as it seemed being laid out for as long as he had been rendered his legs useless and he didn't mind the heavy weight in his tired arms because every moment was a moment longer with the other man. He pretended he didn't like the way the slender arms wound around his neck or the way the thick hair felt as it spilled across both their chests. But it was impossible to ignore the way Harry sighed and leaned his head on the blonde's shoulder, as if he was perfectly content to be there. If he was honest with himself, he would admit that he was happy with the arrangement as well.

Apparating back to the field was almost too easy now that the magical field had been lifted, the absence rendering the air thin so that he felt no resistance as he transported them through space.

It looked like it had when he left, teeming with people, only now there seemed to be tents that had been set up, which was a little odd. He was sure he had only been gone just over a day. And it still bothered him that no one had come to look for him nor did there seem to have been any other activity. Nothing had changed. He was still the Death Eater-turned-wannabe-Auror to everyone else. They had been content to forget him after all.

But then he smiled, a small, hesitant one that Harry seemed to catch for he lifted one hand and gently ran it over the blonde's top lip, a smile curling on his own lips. He smiled because it was him, _Draco,_ that was walking back towards all the people who hated and doubted him with a living and breathing Harry Potter in his arms. And what was the most amazing thing of all was that the only thing he cared about was the man with the wide, bright green eyes looking back at him with an expression he had never thought would be turned his way again.

A shout went up as soon as he stepped through the trees and he looked down at the dark haired wizard, smile turning wistful.

"It's about to get a little crazy, I'm afraid," he said quietly as people streamed down the hill towards him. Someone had called Granger and her ginger haired husband because they were the ones leading the group but there were others too, all people who had eyes only for Harry.

"Will you promise to stay with me?" the deep voice was pleading and he drowned in those deep eyes. Yet before he could respond, Ron was there, babbling words that Draco's tired brain couldn't string together and the bushy haired one was streaming tears and laughter all at once, both of them looking relieved and _happy_ that their friend was alive. And even though Harry clung to the blond, clearly not remembering who these people were, he let Weasley snatch the dark haired man from his arms, feeling completely powerless to hold on to the tenuous, fragile thing he had found deep in the forest that had been held under a curse and had been set free by his own feelings.

There were other people, Kingsley and other Aurors whose names he could never be arsed to learn. Flash bulbs went off like continuous flares of lightening, the snaps echoing like thunder through his head. All he could do was stand back lest he be trampled and let them take Harry away, take away that which he had just found and wished to hang on to with all of his might. But what could he do other than this? His heart ripped at the seams and spilled across his insides like a flood of liquid pain when those green eyes hunted for him over the red head's shoulder as he strode through the crowds back up the hill. Draco felt a flash of resentment for a moment; Weasley was as self important as he had always been. Then emerald green clashed with his own silver eyes, wide and frightened and all he could do was lift his hand in farewell before Harry was swallowed by the friends and the reporters and the Aurors and the entire world.

Only one person, one man separated himself from the milling group, his gold eyes soft and knowing as he approached the blond.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Lupin's smile had always been so kind behind the lines of his scars and now it tore at Draco's remaining emotions like they were rice paper in a gale, "Thank you very much for returning him to us. Whatever you did, there isn't a reward great enough to repay you," and Draco couldn't even find his voice to answer because the only reward he wanted was what had just been taken away. He just nodded, wondering if he would suffocate behind the lump that had formed in his throat before he had to turn away, away from that gaze that saw everything that hurt and everything that was falling apart inside of him.

Forgotten and standing frozen at the edge of everything, he turned away, leaving Lupin watching him sadly, afraid that if he stayed any longer, he would break.

Without a word or a backwards glance, he Apparated away.

**TBC**

**WAHH!!! I know, so sad! But it's not over, never fear!  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So sorry for the wait, I have been getting side tracked . . More angst for you!! Enjoy!

* * *

**

One week went by.

Then another.

Draco tried his best to fall back into his own life as best he could, sure that if he did he would be able to forget, to be able to put everything behind him and move on as if what had happened was only an assignment successfully completed. It should have been so easy too. After all, he barely knew the man that he saw plastered on the front of every paper and magazine, the outcry of the Savior returning resounding throughout the entirety of Europe.

But those eyes; they haunted him…

When he had gone into the office the evening after returning from the forest, he learned that the reason no one had come looking for him was not because they didn't _want_ to but because they couldn't. Kingsley had made a point to find him and explain what happened, wanting to hear from Draco his side of the story as well as explain that he had not been abandoned. The magic the Greyback had cast over the area had kept them all in place, unable to move about the forest freely, holding strong against every spell they cast to counter it. It was ancient, wild magic that would break only when the curse on Harry did and it was speculated that the only reason he had been able to get through was because it had been Harry, or Harry's consciousness, that had brought him there. And they had not been there for a day like he had thought but nearly a whole week.

The entire time he listened to the older man speak, he carefully kept his questions to himself. He didn't care about the events that surrounded his breaking of the curse that had been set on the Savior of the Wizarding World. He didn't care about why it happened or any of the other details that he once would have absorbed greedily. All he wanted to know was if Harry was happy.

Yet how could he ask something like that?

How could he ask if the dark haired wizardhad regained his memories or if he wasn't going to have any lasting effects or even if he had happened to ask about the blond that had rescued him?

It wasn't fair of him to wonder those things. Harry had a life to regain and Draco had never once been part of it. What made him think he had the right to be so now? They had been on opposite sides in the war, at least until the very end where Draco had tried to change and very nearly failed. Apparently he hadn't made a better spy than he had a Death Eater. The only thing they had ever felt for one another was contempt and irritation, beginning on the very first day the boy had refused to shake his hand. Now he could understand _why_ Harry had refused but it had begun a tradition of hate that they couldn't seem to break from. Even when it was all said and done, he had owed the man a life debt. Surely that had been repaid.

Except that it had been more than that and he knew it. He was reminded of it every time he went out and another article was printed about the Boy Who Lives Again, the green eyes staring at him from beyond the flat surfaces of the pages. It made him want in a way that he hadn't even known was possible and he tried to tell himself it was ridiculous, tried to convince himself he was crazy because a few shared words and a single broken curse couldn't _possibly_ instill such strong feelings. Then he would think back, back to the way those deep, wide eyes had peered up at him, trust and longing staring right through him and he knew. Knew that he had been hopeless for Harry the moment he had called out for help, choosing Draco to be the one to set him free. The feelings burrowed deeper and deeper into his heart until they were lasting, like a steal structure encasing his heart.

All because Harry had shown him there could be something _more_ and then had offered to _be_ that something more.

Still, the weeks passed and he remained in the shadows. He couldn't bear to read the articles that were being written almost faster than they could possibly be printed for he was afraid it would make the longing, the desire, the _need_ so much stronger that he wouldn't be able to resist. Harry would have remembered him by now, remembered the truth and he could not bear to think what would happen should he be forced to face that blazing hatred again. Once it had made him feel alive, because Harry Potter was at least acknowledging him. Now it would just break him.

So he did what he always did; went to work, kept his eyes down, did his job and went home. No one besides Kingsley even mentioned the fact that he had been the one to bring Harry back and it was better that way. There was a strange kind of comfort in people's hatred and distain for him because it was predictable. It would always be there, no matter what he did.

A month later, as his grey eyes watched murky water trickle down the glass pane of the window to his flat, he realized that he should never have allowed himself to hope for more. He would never regain his pride and he would forever be alone. Such was his fate.

And Harry Potter would never return his love.

**TBC**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Yay! it's getting there. A couple more chapters and its done. I had soooo much fun writing this so thanks to those of you who have supported me! I appreciate the feedback.

* * *

**

The toast tasted like ash in his mouth but he chewed methodically, knowing that he needed to eat at least something or he would have a headache the rest of the day. It was hard enough getting through the day without his brain beating a painful tattoo against his skull. So he methodically crunched through the cardboard-like toast, even though it dripped sweet butter, barely able to swallow it down, the crumbs dry to the point of gagging him as they traveled down his throat. He had tried enjoying his food, tried getting back the things in his life that he used to find a shallow kind of satisfaction in to no avail. It made him feel weak, frustrated, _enraged _that he had allowed one person he barely even knew to gain such a foothold upon his soul. Sometimes, when he sat in front of his blazing fireplace at night, watching the flames curl and dance around one another, he wondered if in breaking the curse upon Harry, there had been a rebound of magic, turning him into half of a person, the other half trapped with someone who probably barley even spared him a thought.

And it _hurt_ to think that the other man might feel absolutely nothing for him.

Now he pushed away his half-eaten breakfast, stomach clenched in painful knots. This was usually his favorite meal, honey and butter on thin, fresh pieces of perfectly browned bread, served with strawberries or apples. He had taken two of the house-elves from the Manor when he had moved out and they knew all of his habits and preferences. Yet no matter how perfect, he couldn't seem to make himself interested in very much; something that was starting to get in the way of his job.

After a month and a half of standing at the sidelines while the rest of the world celebrated the return of their Savior, he began to wonder if perhaps it would just be better to let himself disappear all together. No one would really miss him, anyway, except for maybe his mother but even she was far enough away that it would take at least several weeks to even realize something was wrong. It was better that way. Ever since the death of his father, anything that reminded them less of their old life, the better.

Maybe that was why he had left his heart so unguarded when he had pulled Harry out of that forest; because he wasn't expecting something so familiar to…_change_ so drastically.

Just then, as he was swirling the dregs of his tea at the bottom of his cup and trying to talk himself into getting from the table and off to the office so he could at least get some paperwork done, there was a sharp knocking at the front door. Frowning, he glanced at the doorway to the airy kitchen, wondering who it could be that was forcefully breaking into his bland routine. Only his mother and a handful of his friends would have occasion to come to his flat and they would use the Floo rather than knocking on the front door. He listened with half of his attention to the high pitched squeaking as one of his house-elves admitted his visitor, no doubt showing them to the front sitting room where his usually entertained his visitors. A warm, deep voice answered calmly but he didn't recognize it so he just shrugged and gathered up his plates, carrying them to the sink. He knew that's why he had the elves but sometimes he liked doing things for himself.

"Master Draco, you be having a visitor in the front room," Pip was the more friendly of the two and he smiled gently at the little creature in acknowledgement, glad for the interruption from forcing himself to eat. Perhaps the pain in his head later would make him forget for a moment the ache in his chest.

"Thank you, Pip. I'll be right there," He had learned a long time ago it paid to treat the house-elves like the sentient beings that they were and not as creatures made to do a wizard's bidding. With a long sigh, he rubbed his palms against his pants absently before making his way through the generous flat towards the front room. It was with only a mild curiosity that he approached, having no idea as to who it could be or of what their visit might be about and he found that he couldn't make himself care.

Not until he turned the corner and stepped into the room, that is, his cordial greeting dying before it reached his lips.

He knew that dark hair, the confident stance, the sharp, handsome profile. Reality seemed to hold itself very still as the other man realized he wasn't alone, turning towards Draco with an expressionless mask. Not that the blond was really paying that much attention. He was too busy getting himself lost in the deepest pools of emerald and viridian and when he finally found his voice, dredged up from the bottom of his pounding heart, it came out as a pathetic croak.

After all, how does one respond when they have the person they have been dreaming about for almost two months standing in their sitting room?

"Harry?"

**TBC**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Again, thanks for the reviews! They are always adored and gobbled up XD  


* * *

**

They stared at one another for a long moment, time suspended around them so that he couldn't even hear the soft ticking of the clock that stood in the corner of the room. Perhaps its hands even stopped. The feeling of shifting reality swirled around his head until he was practically dizzy and all he could see was green. Then one of them blinked, he wasn't sure who, and his voice surged up into the back of his mouth again.

"What are you doing he—"

"Why didn't you come?" the deep voice was tight, portraying a hurt that made his heart stutter in his chest. For a second he was confused and he shook his head, grey eyes wide because he couldn't be sure to what Harry was alluding. The dark haired man took a step towards him, looking tall and immovable, his strength radiating from him and making Draco's knees feel like they were made of rubber, "You let them take me away! You stood there and watched as they snatched me away even though I asked you to stay. And then you didn't even come find me again, to see if I was even still alive! How could you do it?" the words in their hurried desperation stunned the blond and for a moment all he could do was gape. Yet there was no cunning left in him, nothing Slytherin that he could weave into an impenetrable mask so that he might protect himself. Fine blond hair shaded his vision when he ducked his head, unable to stand up to the blazing scrutiny of those eyes.

"I could not have stopped them if I tried," the words sounded weak even as he spoke them but that was only appropriate because that was exactly how he felt, "They are your family, your friends. They mourned for you the hardest when you didn't come back and would have protected you from someone like me," he lifted his head, wanting to see the other man's reaction and spread his hands in a completely unfeigned sign of helplessness, "What would you have had me do? Fight? I have given no one good reason to trust me. Do you remember now, what we were like before the war, or even during it? We hated one another! How could I have explained that I wanted to keep you with me? That I wish I was still that selfish arse-hole that I used to be so that I would never have to share you with anyone ever again. Yet even I know that is impossible!" it was only after he finished speaking did he realize what he had said and very nearly slapped his hand over his mouth. The green eyes were wide now, glittering with an emotion he couldn't read and it made him tremble all the way down to his toes.

"It might have been once, yes," the dark haired man took a step closer and Draco could see he had kept his curls long, their messy length tied back in a sloppy tail and he couldn't understand why that would make Harry even more handsome than he already was but it did, "But I remember too that you switched sides in the end. I remember that you chose not to kill Dumbledore, even though it was your family's lives that were at risk," at Draco's shocked expression, Harry just smiled, "Yeah, I was there that night but that's not important now. Now I want to know why you thought I wouldn't want you around even after I regained my memories?" for a moment, words stuck in his throat, incredulous and despairing.

"You…I…" he closed his eyes and took a step back so that he was leaning on the wall for support. What was it about those eyes that made him forget everything that he was? Momentarily disgusted with himself, he forced himself to stand up straight and look the other wizard in the eye, "I did not think that you had any room in your life for an ex-Death Eater, especially since you probably are trying to find you place in it among the worried friends and the adoring fans," instead of the negative reaction he expected, Harry smiled, that shining, crooked smile that did stupid things to the blonde's heart and a warm, strong hand cupped his jaw, forcing him to fall into deep, shimmering viridian pools. He wondered, somewhere in the back of his mind, when the dark haired man had grown taller and where he had gotten such _strength _from. But then he thought, perhaps it had always been there and Draco had just never seen it.

"Then maybe I should put an end to such an absurd assumption," and before Draco could protest, Harry had him pressed into the wall as he slanted his mouth down to take the blond in a kiss.

**TBC**

**...well, I can't just leave it there, can I??  
**


	17. Chapter 17

"So I guess this must mean you're terribly mad at me for not coming to find you?" laughter lifted his voice, made it lighter than he could ever remember it being but that hardly mattered to him. There was a happy buzz in his ears and he felt as if his head was about to lift right off his shoulders to bump around on the ceiling. _So this is what happiness feels like_, and the feeling expounded when the other man drew himself up with a mock look of stern disappointment on his face even as his wide gaze sparkled brightly.

"Terribly," he intoned before he relaxed in a smile, dimples curving neatly around the corners of his mouth. It made the blond catch his breath because he had seen that smile before, the one Harry would use when he was truly happy but it had never been directed at him. It made his heart swell until he was sure it would burst through his chest, unable to be contained any longer, "I understand why you did. I think I understood as soon as I started to regain my memories but please, don't make me feel like that again," he caught the fear and hurt in the deep voice and it was if the other man's emotions were magnified within himself. Swallowing dryly for they were still standing very close, he nodded once.

"I promise. It was not my intention to hurt you and I'm sorry that I did. It will never happen again," and it wouldn't, not if he could help it. A second later he was dazzled by the brilliant smile that took over the dark haired man's strong features.

"Good," Draco sighed as his lips were captured again, tilting his head back so that the angle was better, getting the full affect of those soft, warm lips. When a hot, slick tongue coaxed him to open his jaw, he was invaded by the heady taste of sunlight and deep, secret places that promised more than words ever could. Harry's hair was as soft as down as he slid his fingers into it, knocking out the tie that held it back so that he was surrounded by the other man's mucky scent. The hard body pressed against him, radiating heat so that it curled comfortably around his limbs and rushed towards other places, desire pulsing hot behind his eyelids. With just a few touches and two kisses, he wanted this man more than he had wanted anything else in his entire life. And not just for the hard length that was pressed into his hip or for the way Harry's tongue sliding along his own made him whimper and effectively scattered his thoughts. It was because he was wanted back just as much, because when the other wizard looked at him, he wasn't seeing their past or old, traded insults. He was looking beneath the surface and liked the man he found underneath. It was for the same reasons Draco realized he could never let Harry go either; because after a month and a half of feeling like he was missing the most important part of his soul, he realized just how _whole_ he felt now.

They were both hopelessly breathless by the time they broke apart and hands were beginning to wander, taking them past the innocent stages of a few kisses and drawing them deeper into something else. A pair of strong, narrow hips moved between his legs and he sucked in a sharp breath, biting the inside of his lip. Merlin, it felt good and he realized he had parted his thighs so that Harry might fit more comfortably between them though he had no recollection of doing so. The dark haired man was grinning crookedly at him, eyes darkened with the same desire that was blazing through the blond and the sight of it nearly made him moan out loud.

"So does this mean I can stay?" the words, though delivered in a teasing voice were heavy with hope and meaning. His already poor, overworked heart skipped painfully and he realized his expression was matched Harry's as it spread warmly across his face.

"That's exactly what it means," he breathed and let himself sink back into Harry was as the world melted away around them…

**TBC**

**...One more chapter to go...!  
**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Well, here we are, the last chapter. I had a BLAST writing this story and I want to thank all of you who were kind enough to support me through it. For those of you who were waiting for the smut, I apologize but there will be none in this story. O_O *gasp* I know! I'm sorry but it really didn't need it. I think putting a sex scene in here would have ruined it! So I'm sorry for those of you who are disappointed. I will be writing a long, multi-chapter Harry/Draco soon so maybe next time. Thanks again and I hope you all enjoyed it. I know I did!

* * *

**

"Are you sure you want to do this?" it was the fourth time Harry had asked him that and for the fourth time, he shook his head and rolled his eyes, pretended to be exasperated but inside was a swarming mass of warmth and nerves.

"For the twentieth time, Potter, you would think we were walking into a room full of hungry lions. I already said I'm fine," and he was, really, because they were in this together, which was a thought that might have shocked him once but now provided a deep sense of comfort. It didn't matter what other people thought of him, of them. The only thing that he cared about was that Harry had stayed with him the entire day after he had first come to Draco's flat and then had decided that when the blond had told him to stay, that included the weekend as well. Mostly they had remained in his bedroom, only leaving to use the loo and food breaks. The time was a haze of pleasure and soft, admiring smiles but they had spent a lot of time talking, too. Oddly enough, the blond enjoyed the time getting to know his lover just as much as he did kissing and making love to him. They both admitted their sudden strong attraction to one another and as it turned out, Harry used to have a bit of a crush on Draco even before the spell had kept him trapped for four years. The knowledge buoyed his soul in ways he still had yet to untangle but while they were unsure of just how deep it ran, they were content to just spend time with one another, basking in the glory of each other's company.

And it had been perfect until the untimely arrival of Blaise Sunday evening, bursting into his kitchen only to come to a screeching halt when he saw who shared Draco's table. _That_ had been an interesting meeting. But by the end of it, his friend was smiling in that knowing way of his as he took up Harry's invitation to join them for dinner. It had been a bit surreal, as two parts of his life collided but he needn't have worried as Blaise had been nothing but charming and Harry more than agreeable. It was then the last lingering doubts were set to rest. They would have to face Harry's friends and then the rest of the world but it wouldn't be impossible. Not anymore.

The commotion outside the front door of the press waiting for their interview brought him back from his thoughts and he eyed the blank wood panels with some trepidation. Though he had never been adverse to attention, it was still going to be difficult standing up to dozens of reporters and their invasive questions. But it was too late now and he had to admit, it was probably better this way rather than getting caught like they were having some illicit affair that they didn't want anyone to know about. At least here, they would be able to control some of what was printed about their new and very sudden relationship.

Surprisingly, it had been Granger who had set it up, her support for them shocking and nearly instant. When Draco had asked why she wasn't upset about Harry being with him, she had just looked at him and smiled, eyes gentle.

"If this is what makes Harry happy, then who am I to protest? After living for four years thinking he was dead, I would see that he had everything he wanted, no matter what it was," The words had struck him hard and he realized just how dedicated Harry's friends were to him. Well, at least this one was. The entire Weasley clan had been a little more difficult to deal with but they were coming around, some more quickly than others. Ron had spouted some rather nasty things but Harry was still holding out hope.

As for Draco's parents…well, they would be finding out with everyone else. He winced at the thought but while his mother would undoubtedly understand, as she always did, his father would be difficult to say the least.

A warm hand curled around the nape of his neck then and he was suddenly pressed against the back of the only barrier that was holding back the flurry of questions that were sure to plague them as soon as they stepped outside. Thankfully, both Granger and Pansy were acting as managers for this little shin-dig and he pitied the person that crossed either one of them. Hot breath ghosted over his lips right before they were caught in a bruising kiss and for a moment he forgot his nerves and any misgivings that were still rattling about in his head.

"I love it when you put that mask on and I can still see what's going on behind it," the green gaze burned into him and he smirked, lifting one eyebrow imperiously. Of course, it belied the happy squirming of his insides at the other man's words as the thought of the other man knowing him well enough to see through his icy pride was oddly appealing.

"Really? And what makes you think there's anything else behind it?" but Harry just laughed at his words, kissing the tip of the blonde's nose.

"I don't think, I know," he said with a wide grin before pulling away. Draco knew his carefully constructed smirk had melted away into a smile but he didn't really care all that much. Not if Harry was looking at him like that. When they turned towards the door, shoulder to shoulder, he twined his hand with the other man's larger one, instantly calmed by its steady warmth. Green glittered down at him over a beautiful, dimpled grin which sparkled as the dark haired man winked, "Come on, Draco, let's not keep our adorning public waiting…"

And as they stepped through the door, hand in hand, it did not matter that the photographers caught his true smile. Whatever happened, Harry was his as much as he was Harry's and it was time to let the entire world know.

To think, all this because of a single broken spell…

**The End**


End file.
